Pull It Together
by onthepageoftears
Summary: She thought she was fine, thought hiding herself from others might make everything a bit safer. She thought that because she had lost practically everything, she could just let go of what little was left. But really, she still had to pull her shit together. And fast. Umbrella Academy OC. Rated M for language, gore, and other topics for mature readers. (cover by January Lily)
1. Summary

**Author's Note: Hello! This is a longer summary for the Umbrella Academy OC I am (slowly) working on, Emily Hargreeves! Updates will come as often as I can, but in the meantime, you can check out my Tumblr where I post updates/ other imagines, etc. This is my first story, so please let me know what you think! :D**

* * *

"_I don't need to be an empath to smell your bullshit."_

To be honest, Emily Hargreeves is just like everyone else. She's hardworking, open minded, and extremely empathetic. So much so, that you could call it her superpower.

Growing up with seven other siblings, most of whom also had superhuman powers, was not easy. Neither was the constant training and competition with her siblings. But Emily was different from her siblings, and she knew it. From a young age, her father (if you could even call him that) kept her separate and isolated. She had to be - her powers would overwhelm her, and until she could control them, she couldn't be around too many people at once. But soon enough, she was trained to control her empathy and was released into the world her siblings had already been exposed to: fighting crime. She trained, fought, and felt, but being apart of the Umbrella Academy wasn't all that it chalked up to be.

Eventually, she left that life behind her and created a new and more fulfilling one; that is, until Vanya's autobiography released and brought her nothing but loss. Her job, her girlfriend: it all crumbled to nothing but a pile of shit, leaving Emily to try and pick up the pieces that might keep her sane.

And now, hearing about her father's death, she is forced to revisit the struggles of her past: the ones that ruined her life in the first place. On top of that is the dire need to save the world from its impending doom. With the help of her siblings, of course.


	2. Soundtrack

**A/N: Hey there! Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited, and thank you to sugared for the review, it means a lot! Right now I'm in the middle of major plotting and development etc, so the story will take me a bit to put out. I want to make sure I have a majority of it written before I start posting so I don't leave people hanging. That's why I have a soundtrack for Emily today, and sometime next week I will post Reginald's notes on Emily. Hopefully, this keeps you guys interested and excited for the story to start! As always, let me know what you think, and you can follow me on Tumblr for more updates! **

**PS. if you haven't already heard of the writer brittwitt16, go check her out! She made a wonderful poster for this story in a giveaway (and is one of my fanfic role models, so def go check out her stuff if you haven't already read it lol). The poster is on my tumblr under #emilyhargreeves, along with some other inspiration. :D**

_**Soundtrack (w/ lyrics that pertain to Emily/the story):**_

**\- I Think We're Alone Now :: Tiffany**

Memorable Lyrics_: __I think we're alone now/There doesn't seem to be anyone __around/I think we're alone now/The beating of our hearts is the only sound_

**\- Say You'll Be There :: Spice Girls**

Memorable Lyrics: _This time, you gotta take it easy/Throwing far too much emotions __at me_

**\- Always on My Mind :: Marbert Rocel**

Memorable Lyrics:_I suspect what's running round's in your head/Almost embedded when your breath touch mine_

**\- Feelings are fatal :: mxmtoon**

Memorable Lyrics: _But opening up/Means trusting others/And that's just too much/I __don't want to bother_

**\- Honey :: Kehlani**

Memorable Lyrics: _Oh, I'm a beautiful wreck/A colorful mess, but I'm funny_

**\- Misguided Ghosts :: Paramore**

Memorable Lyrics: _Well now I'm told that this is life/And pain is just a simple __compromise_

**\- Sunflower :: Rex Orange County**

Memorable Lyrics: _And so she sat me down and told me that I didn't have to cry/Said __I didn't need to get down or feel empty inside/And then told me that she'll love me for as long as she's alive/And well, maybe she's right, 'cause I hate it when I feel like I'm not me_

** Big Blue :: Vampire Weekend**

Memorable Lyrics: _Big blue, for once in my life I felt close to you/I was so overcome __with emotion/When I was hurt and in need of affection/when I was tired and I __couldn't go home_

**\- Ophelia :: The Lumineers**

Memorable Lyrics: _Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl since the flood/Oh, __Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love_

**\- The Love Club :: Lorde**

Memorable Lyrics: _Your clothes are soaked and you don't know where to go/So drop __your chin and take yourself back home/And roll out your maps and papers/Find out your hiding places again/The only problem that I got with the club/Is how you're severed from the people who watched you grow up/When you're a member go on your great adventure again/They will be waiting at the end_

**\- Waste :: Foster The People**

Memorable Lyrics: _You know it's funny how freedom can make us feel __contained/Yeah when the muscles in our legs aren't used to all the walking_

**\- Kids :: MGMT**

Memorable Lyrics: _Control yourself/Take only what you need from it/A family of trees __wanting to be haunted_

**\- Young & Tragic :: Dead Man's Bones**

Memorable Lyrics: _I wish that we were magic/so we wouldn't be so young and tragic_

**\- Foreign Girls :: Bleachers**

Memorable Lyrics:_I've been walking circles/Lost on Sunday morning/Tryna find my __way back home/'Cause I know I've been a stranger lately/I've been a stranger lately/I know I've been a stranger lately_

**Again, thanks to everyone who followed/favorited the story! I'll see you in the next update! ;D**


	3. 0008

**The Detector/The Empath/Number 00.08**

**Reginald Hargreeves Notebook:**

"_...It is not my fear that 00.08's powers of Empathy are far too strong, rather, that she is far too weak. In order to strengthen her power's muscle, it is necessary for 00.08 to be isolated until she can handle her skills._

_...Her inability to understand her own emotions is becoming a rather tedious aspect of Eight's progress. Necessary procedures of emotion education must be used before she can truly understand her power._

_...I have learned that it is much easier for Eight to focus on the emotions around her rather than ignore them; her resistance to her power is harming her more, and because of that, she is having outbursts. _

_...The potential of Eight's power is great, but she still cannot grasp the importance of it all. I fear it is too difficult for her to handle such responsibility without a clear understanding of how a majority of other people feel. This is why I have decided to release her amongst her siblings to see how she fares._

_...As her new goal, I have taught Eight the importance of observance: she can now pick up on physical and emotional signs, both through her power and without it. She seems to be improving on her emotion detecting skills. However, she still lacks the amount of focus she needs._

_...I have noticed Eight's closeness with Seven. She is gravitating towards the apparent sorrow that seven releases; this is the best progress I have seen in Eight since she has been released with the siblings. I am teaching her to use this to her advantage in order to focus her powers based on the emotions she feels overbearingness of._

_...As the children were playing hide and seek, Eight was extremely good. This may seem like an unnecessary addition to my notes, but I believe it is something connected to her empathic abilities. Perhaps the ability to feel the emotions of her siblings is not just a detector, but a tracker as well."_

**Excerpt from "Extra Ordinary" by Vanya Hargreeves:**

"..._Then there was Emily: "the empath", or "the detector". A girl who could feel other people's emotions, but never got in touch with her own. She was always distant, always afraid to let people further into her life. But for whatever reason, she was always nice to me. I used to think that she actually liked me, that she was the one sibling who didn't think I was a waste of space. But now I realize that I was just one of her projects, someone she was forced to pity because of her power. I was one of her focus points, one of her ways to control her empathic senses. And for that, she may be the worst of all of them."_


	4. Chapter 1: The Return

The noise of the gym was loud. Loud might be an understatement: every second there was either a loud groan or the squeaking of sneakers on the concrete floor. People of all shapes and sizes clustered into their little areas: a couple guys sparred as their coach yelled at them, some dudes aggressively jumped rope, a trainer spit insults in her current project's face.

In the midst of this noise, a small looking woman emerged: Emily Hargreeves. She couldn't hear the noise, though; her earbuds were tucked into her ears, as they almost always were when she arrived at the gym. Her scowl of determination was enough to force people out of her way - that or the clear thirst for blood that lingered in her eyes. Either way, she went straight towards one of the many punching bags, and kept her eyes on her apparent target.

Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, but pieces were already falling down to frame her face. That was the least of her worries, it seemed, and the anger that clouded her eyes could be seen from a mile away. As she situated herself in front of the bag, she slid on her mitts easily and set up her stance: dominant foot in front, opposite not far behind. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

_Focus._

The emotions around her warped and blurred her senses:_ anger, stress, pain, excitement_. These weren't the emotions she needed to focus on; she needed to focus on her own.

_Focus._

Emily took another deep breath, this time letting her eyes rest on the bag in front of her. She squared her shoulders and placed her covered fists just in front of her face. With a third inhale through her nose, she bounced on the balls of her feet. She punched the bag, not waiting for it to stop swinging before she punched again.

_Anger. Fear. Anxiety. Grief._

Now those, those were definitely her emotions.

She kicked her foot up, sending the bag flying around in the air. If anyone came near her, they'd be in for a lot of pain. But then again, she didn't need to feel anymore of that.

Emily was an empath. No, she wasn't extremely empathetic or psychically inclined; she was born with the _powers_ of an empath. October 1st, 1989. The date wasn't special, not on its own. But the context made it all the better: she was born on the first hour, along with 43 other children. They were born from seemingly nowhere, with powers of their own. But _she_ was one of the lucky eight that got adopted by Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

_Focus._

When she first started coming to this gym, Emily thought she would never be able to clear out the emotions that flooded her veins: being around a bunch of angry middle aged men would do that to you, she guessed. Empath or not. But slowly, she realized she had a lot more emotions in common with them; her ability to focus on her own was easier than it sometimes was, and as soon as she started punching, her brain cleared. It was one of the few places that she was able to feel like she had her shit together.

But really, she didn't have her shit together. In her head, she would say, "Who does?" But in her heart, she was crushed.

It was not too long ago that everything fell apart. Whenever Vanya published her book - Emily didn't want to know the exact date, or she would have to have an anniversary for her mid life crisis - was when Emily's attempt at being normal was lost. The publicity was too much, and it changed everything. Her job was gone, girlfriend put on hold. It was only a matter of time that Emily would have to face the consequences that Vanya's book created for her.

Emily punched the bag in front of her harder. And harder. The sweat was accumulating rather quickly on her skin, but she didn't mind. It made her feel alive, the way her muscles ached and her skin glowed. She didn't even know how long she had been there. That is, until her punching bag started to resist her punches.

"Your punches are getting stronger."

"Or your resistance is getting weaker." Emily huffed at her brother's figure as he emerged from behind her bag. She quirked a brow at his arm, which was still holding onto her target. When he didn't move, she began punching anyway.

Diego was the only sibling she had seen rather consistently since they all went on their own paths. It was almost unintentional, the way they reconnected. Actually, it was fully unintentional: Emily was looking for a good gym to get her anger out in, and he happened to live there. They only saw each other once in a while; a slight nod or even a glance would suffice for a greeting.

The rest of her siblings, though…that was another story.

Emily tried to shake the memories - or, lack of memories - out of her head: being sad and vulnerable wasn't going to fuel her punch. The anger was still coursing through her veins. It was almost always present, especially in the gym. But there was something else in the gym, another emotion that was throwing off her balance. It was concern, wariness.

Emily stopped punching and ran her arm against her forehead, ignoring the way her sweat stuck against her skin. She ripped the earbuds from her ears, immediately missing the low shield of music. "What's wrong?"

Diego shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing."

Emily rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "You know that doesn't work on me."

Diego didn't bother responding. Instead, he watched Emily with a hesitant concern, one that only made her more impatient. She raised her eyebrows at his relaxed figure that was leaning against the wall next to her. But nothing about him was really relaxed.

"I'm going to go over there soon."

Emily stiffened. She hadn't forgotten about her father's funeral - how could she, with it being all over the news? Still, she had kind of pushed it to the bottom of her priorities. She didn't want to deal with it, not now or ever, but she knew she would have to. Just not yet.

She shrugged and turned back to the punching back, setting up her stance again. "I don't need a ride, if that's what you're implying."

She tried to ignore the waves of hesitance that radiated from him, or the slight regret that lingered in the air when he left. Diego had a hard exterior, always covering up his true emotions with fabricated ones. They were similar in that way, only Emily did it because she had to deal with everyone else's emotions, and would rather bury her own. Diego had different issues, ones that had to do with their childhood. But honestly, didn't they all?

Either way, it was probably the only reason they got along. A shared interest in fighting off emotions and the link to their troubled past. Oh, and their love of chinese food.

Emily shook her head and bounced on her feet with a little more energy. If she had to leave for one of the most dreaded moments of her life, she needed to get a few good punches out first. With a huff, she punched the bag as hard as she could; but somehow, she knew that wouldn't be enough.

* * *

Emily stood in front of the towering mansion and shifted on her feet. She didn't want to go in. Not even a little bit. Why couldn't she just stop by for the funeral, flip off the grave, and be done with it?

She knew it wasn't that simple. Hell, if anyone knew that, it was her. Plus, she could already feel the shit pile of emotions that seeped from the mansion's walls: it was probably from Luther. Not only was he one of the most emotional of the Hargreeves, but he was also the one who would bow down to their father in a heartbeat. He was definitely the first one there, even if he did come all the way from the fucking moon.

Emily didn't even mind that her still aching arms were aching even more from her pre-packed duffle bag; she wouldn't mind camping out on the front lawn if she had to, just to avoid the inevitable cringe of a family reunion.

So, she had a tough childhood. Negligent father, competitive siblings, clueless mother. It was a simple equation, one that made up most families on the entirety of the Earth. But adding in the superpowers and constant pressure of "saving the world", well, that's where things got messy.

Emily lifted her wrist slightly, and let her long sleeves drift upwards. The umbrella tattoo was still there, as it had been since she was a kid. She frowned slightly at the mark and let her arm fall back to her side. She didn't know why she kept it, even after everything that had happened to her and her siblings.

Number 8…That's what her father called her. Some might say it was a unique name; she would say it was just a goddamn number. Her father labeled her and her siblings as a _number_. God, what a bunch of horse shit.

Unless you considered her other labels: The Empath, or, _The Detector. _To be honest, she didn't know what was worse: being named as a number, or a generic wannabe Marvel superhero. Either way, it made her kind of glad that her mother named her Emily, even if that was cliche in itself. Emily the Empath. It almost made her want to vomit.

And now she was here. Standing outside of her childhood home, where she would have to attend her asshole of a father's funeral and pretend to care that he has "passed on", or whatever other crap people say at funerals. It wasn't like she wanted her father to die, but she didn't care if he was alive either. At least, she didn't think so. She could sense other people's emotions, but that didn't mean she wanted to deal with her own.

With a huff, Emily took the remaining steps forward and swallowed her pride. She was sure her siblings didn't want to be there anymore than she did: actually, she was positive. Along with the wafting of grief and loss, Emily sensed some hatred and disdain, along with discomfort and awkwardness. It was becoming a bit much, honestly, but Emily was used to it. Being an empath meant sensing everyone's feelings, and being around her siblings was no different. In fact, it was probably much worse.

Emily raised one of her hands into a fist and stopped herself midair. Was she really going to knock? This was her childhood home, after all. But for some reason, she felt like a stranger.

"Shit." She said, letting her fist tap against the cold wooden doors. To her relief, no answer came. She reached for the door knob and turned it slowly, letting the door creek loudly in her arrival. _Great, they'll know I'm here_, she thought, as she dragged her bag through the small entrance she left for herself.

It was only when she officially placed her first foot into the house that she shuddered. It was emptier than she remembered it, but the walls were just as tall and ominous as they were when she was a kid. As quietly as she could, she shut the door behind her, cringing when the sound echoed throughout the whole house.

Another shudder traced up her spine, despite the sweater that covered her shoulders. It was just the atmosphere of the place, the emptiness, that made her shiver. It was haunting, and she didn't really want to think about the idea of the Reginald as a spirit. _Imagine him haunting us at the funeral, _she thought to herself_: It'd be more attention than what we got from him when we were kids. _

After a few more moments of hesitance, Emily found herself staring at the view of the main room from her spot. Her eyes lingered on the portrait that hung proudly against the wall: Five. Emily remembered the day he disappeared like it was yesterday: sitting at the table, feeling his anger, his almost unwavering pride. She was on edge when he left the room, his emotions flying with him but not quite disappearing until moments after, when he was gone.

Emily shook her head. She just got back to the academy, and she was already getting way too emotional. For an empath, it was a funny thing to say. But Emily didn't like to talk about her 'feelings' or what she was going through. She would rather focus on other things, or memories that actually mattered to her: like her love of the Spice Girls.

Emily's eyes widened at the vague memory of her room; she wondered if it was just as she left it, and felt a sudden burst of energy at the thought. She quickly made her way up the stairs and towards her old bedroom. It was just between Vanya and Klaus' rooms, which was both a blessing and a curse. As a kid, Emily loved Vanya's violin almost as much as she loved the Spice Girls - she always found the melodies calming, and it sometimes helped her headaches seize. But then, there was Klaus, who would constantly blast his music or bang on her walls just to piss her off. Then again, there were the times when he would sneak into her room to gush over the Spice Girls (though then, he would never admit to it) or try on random clothes. Again, being in between those two was a blessing and a curse.

Emily found herself nearly mimicking the same path that she would take as a kid: it was like a pattern trained into her mind, like a schedule that she would never forget. Soon, she was standing in her door frame, letting her eyes take in the familiar yet vaguely forgotten space.

She let herself take a deep breath and placed her bag in a heap on the floor. Her room had always been her oasis, a place where she could escape from the emotions of the outside world. She would flop on her bed and hide under the covers, ignoring the life outside of her room. If only it were that easy now.

Emily twirled around in the room, taking in all that she left behind. It _was _exactly as she had left it. She forgot just how much she loved the Spice Girls: there were countless posters lining the walls, along with random cut-outs of famous actresses and other 'role models' that teenage-emily had (Buffy, Charlie's Angels, Madonna, you name it). Emily laughed out loud, the echo making her a bit giddy. She couldn't believe how obvious it was that she was into chicks.

With a snort, she made her way over to her dresser. There were still some clothes inside, like her favorite ripped jeans (more like sliced jeans) that Diego made for her, or the skirt that Grace bought for her just to have Klaus hijack it soon after. She didn't mind, though - skirts weren't her cup of tea, and power to Klaus for having the balls to wear it. Literally.

"I see you're settling in quite well." The voice startled her, pulling her out of her trance of childhood memories. She immediately felt the warmth coming from Pogo, who stood tentatively in the doorway. He leaned into the cane in front of him and looked around her room. "It has been a long time since you all left."

_Sadness, remorse_. Emily bit her lip. "It's nice to see you, too."

"But not in these circumstances, I suppose." Pogo smiled grimly at Emily; he was never shy of eye contact, and part of Emily hated that. Even though she was an empath, looking into someone's eyes was like a deeper passage into their soul. She flicked her eyes to his features: his hair was much more grey than she remembered, and she felt like his voice had aged as well. If that was even possible.

Pogo was probably the one person that Emily felt guilty leaving. They were close, to say the least, but Emily knew that if she wanted to leave the house, that meant leaving everything. But seeing him now, in his aged state, made her feel that guilt all over again.

Emily's eyes refocused on Pogo's figure as he shifted in his spot. He nodded slightly, and began to turn himself back to the hallway. "I'll leave you to…reminisce."

As soon as he disappeared from the doorframe, Emily released her breath. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought it was.

With a frustrated sigh, she flopped onto her light blue covers. Her bed was just as comfortable as she remembered it: like sleeping on a cloud. It made her seriously regret leaving, just for a second. She closed her eyes and lay on her back, trying to focus on her own emotions.

Sometimes it was hard to figure out if her emotions were hers or from the people around her. It was something that all her training with Reginald had helped her with, though she might not admit it out loud. After quitting the academy, she began to lose herself again. It wasn't nearly as bad as when she was younger, but it still sucked.

Emily let herself relax and tried to push all of her outer senses through her breathing. Breathe in her own emotions, breathe out everyone else's.

_Breathe in, breathe out._ Anxious.

_Breathe in, breathe out._ Disoriented.

_Breathe in, breathe out._ Restless.

Well, that was reassuring. Emily's eyes flew open to the ceiling above her. She groaned inwardly and huffed. She would have to face her family sooner or later. "Let's get this shit over with." She mumbled to herself, and tried to mentally prepare for the mess of a family reunion that was about to ensue.

**So, that's the first chapter! Again, this is my first time trying to write a fic, so your comments/suggestion really mean a lot! Thanks so much for reading!**


	5. Chapter 2: Family Reunion

You'd think being in a huge mansion like this, it would be easy to avoid people; with all the rooms and secret corridors, and the tall ceilings that seemed to grow every time Emily closed her eyes, she thought it would be a little while before having to see another family member. But one step out of her room and she was already met with another familiar face.

"Allison," she breathed, bracing herself for some pain inducing small talk. But before she could get another word out, Allison was hugging her. _Tender_. _Relief_. Now that was a bit unexpected.

"Emily." Allison pulled away, and the smile on her face looked…real. "How are you?"

"Could be better. You?"

Allison quirked a brow. "Don't you already know that?"

Emily shrugged. "It's polite to ask."

She was surprised to see Allison's lips curl into a smile, a chuckle escaping. Emily frowned at the way Allison squinted at her. She was _actually_ happy to see her.

"I'm happy to see you."

"I know." Emily gestured to herself to avert Allison's curious eyes. After a moment, she sighed, letting her shoulders sag slightly. "It's good to see you too."

Unlike with Diego, Emily hadn't kept up with her siblings. They were all on their own paths, for the most part. Luther on the moon, Klaus stuck in his addiction, Vanya in her…well, depression slash family angst. Emily didn't even considered contacting Allison, until that night.

_Emily woke up in a cold sweat. This had only happened a few times before, mostly when she was a kid. But when Emily woke up, tangled in her sheets and burning up, she only had one thought on her mind: Allison. She tiptoed to the living room, careful not to wake Ryan. Her hands were shaking as she dialed the phone - she was slightly ashamed to say she hadn't memorized her sister's number, mostly because she never thought she would speak to her again - and she'd be lying if she didn't have tears brimming in her eyes._

"_Hello?" Allison's voice was tender, broken. It was exactly how Emily felt, and in that moment she knew she wasn't crazy._

"_Allison." Emily whispered in the phone, clutching onto it for dear life. "What happened?"_

_And then Allison sobbed._

Emily and Allison hadn't been close as kids. Actually, they couldn't have been further apart. But for some reason, when Allison's life started to crumble, Emily felt it. She was connected. And she couldn't help it but call Allison to numb the pain. For both of them.

And as Emily looked at her sister now, she could feel the pain that still lingered from the divorce. She felt something missing, like a piece of a puzzle.

"How is Claire?"

Allison sighed, "Good." She only continued when Emily stared at her, a knowing expression on Emily's face. "I haven't seen her for a while."

"He's an asshole." Emily was glad to hear her sister laugh, to feel the bubble of relief in her throat. Her laugh was cut short, though, and Emily could feel her guilt.

"No, he's…" She shook her head, the sudden need to change the subject on her mind. "How's your job?"

Emily immediately stiffened. "It didn't work out."

It was basically true. Emily loved her job: she had loved animals ever since she was young, and being an empath heightened that. She could understand animals like no one else could; when she finally escaped her father's clutches, she decided the only thing she wanted to do was help animals. It didn't hurt that she was an empath, of course. But she went to school, did the time, learned the ropes, and became a veterinarian. And then she quit.

The raise of Allison's eyebrows was all that Emily needed to groan in response. She turned to her nails, biting ferociously at them like she had when she was a kid. "Vanya's book…it made people know about my power."

"So you got more business." Allison shifted on her feet and watched Emily with curiosity. "Isn't that good?"

"I didn't need more business." Emily spat. "I was perfectly fine without the weird celebrity craze. Besides, I wanted to_ work_ for my status, to earn it." Emily could feel the deflation of Allison's heart. It was practically a direct attack on Allison, but it was the truth. Emily didn't like to shy away from the truth.

"I'm sorry, but-"

"No." Allison sighed and crossed her arms in front of her. "You're right. I get it."

The silence between the two was pretty stale; Emily could practically feel Allison's brain working at a rapid pace, and it made her even more anxious than she already was. If there was one thing that Emily hated, it was silence. It made her focus more on her power than she wanted to, made her feel the emotions whirring around in her senses. Because of this, she was sort of glad to be interrupted, even if it was by someone she didn't want to see.

"Hello?"

"Vanya." Allison walked past Emily, leaving her to stare at the spot where she was just standing. This is how their family always was: always moving, always losing focus. It was something Emily hadn't really missed. "Are you coming?"

Emily turned her head to see Allison looking at her from the end of the hallway. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

Emily sighed. She guessed she would have to see Vanya sooner or later, and better for it to be with someone else there to keep her own emotions from boiling over. Reluctantly, Emily followed after Allison and made her way down the stairs to see Allison giving Vanya a similar hug to her own.

Emily decided to keep her distance, and leaned on the banister just behind Allison.

"Emily, hey." Vanya waved awkwardly toward her sister; the anxiety was pushing off of her in waves. Emily decided a small nod would suffice for a greeting. To be honest, she didn't really trust her own words to come out in the same friendly manner as Allison's.

Vanya looked the same as she did all those years ago. Dull colored button up, hair pulled back in a reserved bun. She was a strange girl, and always had been. Once upon a time, Emily was right there with her. They used to be close, really close, believe it or not. But once Emily started training with her other siblings, they drifted apart. Emily felt bad about it, but she gave as many opportunities for Vanya to join them as she could. The other siblings weren't as open to her presence, and Emily couldn't do much about it. She supposed that made her a bitch, but she _was_ just a kid.

Emily turned her head as she heard steps approaching: the anger was the first thing she sensed, so she immediately recognized it as Diego.

"What is she doing here? You don't belong here." So much for being civil.

"You're seriously going to do this today?" Allison glared after their brother, clearly upset at his bitchy attitude. But Emily knew that was just how he was. "Way to dress for the occasion, by the way."

"At least I'm wearing black."

Emily blinked at the scene in front of her. It was finally hitting her that her family was going to be back together, under the same roof. Even though the house was horrifyingly large, it suddenly felt like the walls were caving in, like there was barely any room to breathe.

"I've gotta go," Emily whispered, and rushed back up the stairs. There was no concern that she could sense, so they probably just ignored her. Good. She didn't need anyone to worry about her, especially since that would just make everything worse.

Her power of empathy had always been like this: it was a slight humming in the back of her brain, something she had gotten used to over the years. At first, it was unbearable; her head would pound day after day, minute after minute, and the only thing that would help were the sedatives her father gave her. She was locked in a room away from everyone else: it was traumatizing, to say the least. She wished she could forget those years being locked away, but her power had a way of interlacing her memories with strong emotions. The pain and loneliness of being locked away in the steel confinements would never leave her, no matter how much she numbed herself with alcohol or whatever other tools she could use. She learned that the hard way.

But then, as she got older, she learned to embrace the emotions rather than fight them. That was one thing she was truly grateful for of her father: he made it possible for her to function like a normal person - or, somewhat of a normal person. She was still different: more reserved, more emotionally tainted than anyone she had ever known, including her siblings - but after a while of intense medication and training, she could finally be let out into the Umbrella Academy. Though, she wondered if that was a good thing to begin with.

Even though she had control over the emotions that flooded her senses, being around her siblings was always draining. As Emily practically stumbled through the familiar halls of the academy, she gave herself a mental note to take one of her pills - the ones her father had been giving her ever since she was little, the only ones that were strong enough to numb her headaches. She only needed them once in a while, and her use of them died down when she left the academy. But now that she was back, she might have to get a refill.

In her daze, Emily found herself standing in the doorway of Reginald's office. Even though he was dead, she felt strange passing the doorframe, as if he would glance up from his journal and reprimand her. She hadn't been allowed in there unless he called her in: it was a part of her personal training, helping him with his journaling notes. He would tell her to observe her siblings to help him understand them better. As a kid, this made her feel special: no one else got to go in the office as long as she did, and they were never allowed to observe him behind the desk. But that pride that she had felt was short-lived: now, it just made Emily feel dirty.

Emily felt a sudden burst of frantic energy; it wasn't the typical panic, rather the desperate need for…drugs.

"Klaus." The movement behind the desk stopped abruptly, and Emily couldn't help but smile when her brother's head popped up and over the chair that her father used to occupy consistently.

"Em," the boy wandered over to her, clumsily tripping over the mess that he created. "So good to see you." Klaus reached out to hold Emily's shoulders, but instead of pulling her into a hug, he gasped lightly. His fingers pressed gently on her upper arms, and Emily could feel his genuine surprise. "You've been hitting the gym."

"And you've been hitting the bong."

Klaus gestured to himself lazily. "Can you feel-"

"Not right now." Emily tugged her brother in close to her, and let her head rest on his shoulder. "But I have a nose."

"Touché." After a few seconds of their embrace, Klaus pulled away. "And that's why you were always my favorite."

The two smiled dumbly at each other; it was exactly like they were kids again, always trying to one up the other one. Only this time, it was in weird circumstances and after way too long of being apart. But it was like they had been together the whole time.

"What are you up to in here, anyway?"

"You know, the usual." His eyes roamed lazily over the valuables he had thrown around the room. "Trying to find something valuable from the old man's existence."

Emily snorted. "Yeah, well good luck with that."

Emily turned back around, leaving Klaus to do his scavenging. There was no point in stopping him: she had tried many years ago, but to no avail. The empath in her understood him, though: there was some deep torture in him, a sadness and pain that not even she could relate to. It isn't everyday that you're haunted by the many spirits of the afterlife, and if sensing everyone's emotions was bad, she couldn't imagine hearing dead people 24/7. Yeah, no thanks.

As she headed out of Reginald's office, she almost walked straight into a wall. Except, it wasn't a wall.

"Emily." _Disinterest, uneasiness._

"Rocket man." Emily tilted her head up to her brother, and allowed a smirk to play upon her face. "Back from the moon, I see?"

"Yeah." Luther shifted awkwardly, the floor beneath him creaking in response. Emily sent him a curious look. He was much…bigger than she remembered, but perhaps it was some side effect from the moon. It was highly unlikely, but Emily didn't care enough to go into the logistics of her theory. She was a veterinarian, not a scientist.

"What were you doing in there?" The suspicion of his words hit her with surprise. He was watching her with slightly squinted eyes, almost like he was trying to read her emotions as well as she could his. Well, two could play at that game.

"I could ask you the same thing."

He frowned. "I wasn't in there."

"Not _yet_." The two of them stood awkwardly in the hallway, and Emily rolled her eyes with a sigh. "I can walk around my own childhood home, can't I?"

"I suppose so." He hesitated and looked behind her, suddenly distracted. _Longing_. _Allison_, Emily pursed her lips, waiting for her brother to say something next. "Have you seen dad's monocle?"

Emily frowned. "No. Why?"

"Nothing. It's fine." With that, Luther pushed past her and towards Reginald's office, not bothering to further his explanation. _Whatever_, Emily thought as she trudged towards her room. She didn't want to deal with his shit, anyway. Part of her felt bad for him, being practically brainwashed by Dad and all. Maybe it was because Emily spent so much time with their father that she hated him, but deep down she knew he was just a douchebag. Sure, he liked Luther the most - him being named "number one" was enough clear favoritism for a goldfish to understand - but that didn't mean he cared about him.

And then there was Luther's fondness with Allison. Even though she was an empath, Emily would never understand their relationship. And she had a front row seat to their constant feelings towards each other.

Ugh. She really needed a nap.

* * *

**A/N**: Heyooo! Thanks to sugarred for your reviews, I'm glad you're liking the story so far!

This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but I didn't have much time to edit the rest that I have written. I'm pretty busy recently, so I might not post on a consistent schedule. But once my finals are over, I'll be writing a lot more! You can go check out my tumblr ( onthepageoftears) for any updates!

Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)


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